The Young Traveller
by Robyn-Clare
Summary: Follow-on from LOTR, with new characters. New chapters up now!
1. The Young Traveller

In Rivendell, some months after Aragorn son of Arathorn had been crowned King Elessar, Isildur's heir of Gondor, a boy was taken prisoner by two Elves and taken to Elrond Halfelven of the House of Elrond.  
  
"Your name, boy?" The Elf asked the young boy in front of him. The boy looked as though he had spent most of his life wandering, so covered in mud and grime he was. He wore a once white shirt and over that a shabby old waistcoat. His trousers were brown and muddy. He was barefoot. His curly brown mop of hair was tossed back as the small boy looked up at Elrond.  
  
"My name, sir, is Callum."  
  
"Why are you in Rivendell?" Elrond asked.  
  
"I have spent many years in the company of one Strider, a Ranger. He told me if I ever lost him, I was to go to Rivendell and he would find me there. I have not laid eyes on him for more than a year."  
  
"We know of no Strider here."  
  
Elrond was about to order the boy away, when Callum said hurriedly, "He has other names, sir. The Dúnadan for one, Aragorn for another."  
  
"Aragorn!" Elrond turned back to the boy, gesturing the other Elves to leave.  
  
"Yes, sir, Aragorn son of Arathorn. And if you are Elrond Halfelven.?" Elrond nodded and Callum continued. "I have often heard him speak of you and of your daughter, the fair Arwen, who chose a mortal life over immortality for him."  
  
"What of your parentage, boy?" Elrond wished to depart from the subject of his only daughter.  
  
Callum appeared slightly startled at the entirely unrelated question, but replied, "During my seventh year of life, the old crone, I lived with, on her deathbed admitted she was not my true mother though I had spent all of my short life with her. After her death, I became a wanderer. A year later, I encountered Strider and remained in his companionship until a little more than a year ago. I know naught of my father nor my true mother."  
  
Elrond was silenced. Just then a horse clattered into the main courtyard, where they were standing, a young Elf as the rider. The Elf dismounted and looked at Elrond. "Sir, I come with a message from the King Aragorn."  
  
"King?" The boy turned to look at the new arrival.  
  
"Callum!"  
  
"Legolas!"  
  
"What are you doing here?" They chorused in unison.  
  
"You know each other." Elrond seemed astonished.  
  
"Yes, sir, the Fellowship of the Ring met him after we left here."  
  
Callum explained further. "I had some business to attend to at The Prancing Pony, so I told Strider I would meet him outside of Rivendell."  
  
Elrond nodded and turned back to Legolas. "Your message?" He asked of the younger Elf.  
  
"The Lord Aragorn is arriving here tomorrow or the day after with his Queen."  
  
"Thank you. A servant will show you to your room." Elrond dismissed Legolas, as another Elf appeared to lead the horse to the stables. Legolas bowed and left.  
  
"Who is Queen of Gondor?" Callum asked. "My daughter, Queen Arwen. Come boy. I will tell someone to show you to your room. You will stay with us until the Lord Aragorn arrives."  
  
Callum followed Elrond, surprised and faintly amused at his abruptness, but inwardly rejoicing at the news of the marriage and coronation for he knew it meant the quest had been accomplished and the Ring destroyed.  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning, true to his royal word, Aragorn arrived with his Queen Arwen and some courtiers. Elrond invited the King and Queen to a Council Meeting. Legolas, looking somewhat tired for the long night he and Callum had sat up exchanging memories and experiences since their previous meeting, was at the Meeting, together with Gimli and Gandalf, both of whom had arrived with the Royals.  
  
The entire Fellowship was there, with the exception of Boromir who had died during the quest. However his brother, Faramir, had taken Boromir's place in the Council. The hobbits sat, their hairy feet dangling at least a foot from the ground, wondering why they'd been summoned to the Meeting. Their curiosity was soon satisfied. Elrond went through all the pleasantries and then announced he had had a visitor the day before. Legolas had been warned to remain silent. "I believe he is a friend of yours, Aragorn. Could you fetch him here?" Elrond addressed himself to Legolas for the latter sentence.  
  
Legolas was soon back with Callum beside him. Nothing was needed to be said. Callum ran straight to Aragorn, who folded him tightly into his arms. "Callum!" The hobbits chorused clapping their hands in delight.  
  
Callum broke free of Aragorn's grip and swung round to greet the hobbits. "Frodo! Sam! Merry! Pippin!"  
  
After Callum had been reunited with the entire Fellowship, (he had been at the scene of Boromir's demise) Aragorn remarked, "You've met Queen Arwen before, have you not?" Callum nodded and smiled at the beautiful Queen.  
  
"I knew not of the marriage, but I am glad of it."  
  
"I assume Callum is the reason for this meeting, Elrond." Gandalf smiled as he addressed the Elf, who smiled.  
  
"Of course. I thought you would wish to be reacquainted with your young friend."  
  
"I for one am pleased to see him again." Gimli broke in.  
  
"Dwarves are never afraid." Callum teased him, remembering an old joke of the Fellowship.  
  
Gimli grinned good-humouredly. "Indeed they are not, Callum."  
  
* * *  
  
Later that day, as Elrond waited for the King to arrive at one of his private rooms, he watched Callum lark about in the courtyard with the hobbits. The boy was, of course, taller than the hobbits, despite being much younger. However the hobbits were full of fun and together with Callum they were enjoying themselves as much as Gimli, Legolas and Gandalf who were sitting in the courtyard and reminiscing about the Fellowship days, Gandalf's smoke rings wreathing his wrinkled face and grey beard.  
  
"Lord Elrond?" Aragorn stood at the doorway.  
  
Elrond turned around. "Come in, Estel." The Elf used the King's elvish name. "Tell me what you know of Callum's parentage. He informed me that he knew naught of his parents."  
  
Aragorn looked awkward as he entered the room. "I have something to tell Callum and yourself. I know not who to tell first."  
  
"Callum is amusing himself with the hobbits." Aragorn stood beside Elrond, watching the boy laugh with the hobbits.  
  
"Father.." Aragorn was unsure of how to explain what he knew. "It is true I know of Callum's parentage more than he does himself. I will tell you then I must tell him. It is time for him to know."  
  
Elrond's interest was aroused still further by the Lord Aragorn's peculiar comment. "Tell all then." He encouraged the King.  
  
* * *  
  
Later when Callum was sitting with his hobbit, elfish, and dwarfish friends and Gandalf, King Elessar of Gondor left Elrond's room and bid Callum to join him. Callum jumped up from his seat and trotted after the King, who was wondering how to tell Callum of his parentage. Together they strolled by the river in silence, happy to be together again.  
  
Eventually, Aragorn halted and put a hand on Callum's shoulder. "Callum. I have never told you what you deserve to know, since I never knew how to say it. Now I must tell you."  
  
Callum remained silent, wondering what Aragorn meant. "Your name is not Callum, any more than mine is Strider. Your name is Connor son of Aragorn son of Arathorn."  
  
There was a long silence, followed by a small "Oh." After a while, Callum said, "My mother.?"  
  
"Is Arwen." Aragorn completed the sentence for his son.  
  
"Is that why you looked after me?"  
  
Aragorn nodded. "You told me about your life, I realised you were my son and so I kept you with me."  
  
* * *  
  
The next day, the inhabitants of the House of Elrond gathered together to watch the departure of the King Aragorn, Queen Arwen and Prince Connor. The latter some of the Elves felt sure they'd seen before, but it was the first most of them had heard of Prince Connor, despite the fact he wasn't a newly- born baby.  
  
Outside of Rivendell, the hobbits and Royals separated with many fond farewells. The hobbits to go back to the Shire and the Royals and their companions to go to Gondor.  
  
Before tuning a corner in the road, Frodo looked back at the Royal Company. He could just see the small figure of his good friend riding proudly between his parents. The half-elf, half-boy twisted slightly in his saddle to address a comment to his mother. As Frodo watched, a grin lit up Prince Connor's face. Frodo smiled. The Prince was a cheerful young boy and all the happier for knowing his parents' identities. Frodo knew the boy deserved the happiness he felt and was pleased for him.  
  
The Fellowship of the Ring was complete in their happiness. 


	2. Explanation

Okay, the Ranger's Son is a sequel to the Young Traveller and there's an eight-year gap between the two stories. I've changed some of the stuff that happened in the Appendix of Lord of the Rings, but I've kept it the same as much as possible. Enjoy! 


	3. The Ranger's Son: The Brothers

There were eleven years between the two brothers in age, but that made no difference to their arguments. The elder son, Connor, resembled his father very much, but the younger son resembled their mother. Connor was in his nineteenth year and Darcy in his eighth. They lived at the city of Minas Tirith with their parents, Aragorn the King Elessar and Queen Arwen Evenstar. However their parents, being the King and Queen, were often away on royal journeys visiting their subjects. They were away at the time that the brothers had another of their many quarrels.  
  
Shouting and punching, the boys fought. The Steward, in charge of the city when the King was not there, came running up as lesser servants informed him of the fight. "Prince Connor! Prince Darcy! Would that your father were here to see this!"  
  
"Would that you were not!" Connor snapped, pushing his younger brother to the floor.  
  
"I am in charge when your father is not here. I."  
  
"He never is here." The taller boy yelled and stormed off to his private rooms.  
  
Young Darcy was helped up by some servants who emerged from all over the place once the furious older Prince has disappeared. "Where is Father, Theo?"  
  
The Steward brushed the small boy's hair out of his face. "You are not hurt, I hope, sir?"  
  
"No, I thank you, but where is my father and when will he return?"  
  
"He is to return in a few days. Maybe they will arrive today." The Steward reassured the boy. Darcy nodded and then strutted off with Theo, telling the adult all about his brother's lowliness. The Steward and younger Prince were united in their dislike for the older Prince. "You see, because Connor was in the War of the Ring, he believes that he can rule over me, but he cannot," was the last that the other servants heard the little boy say before his high voice was out of earshot.  
  
* * *  
  
Connor sat, with his knees tucked up to his chest, on the windowsill of his private chamber and watched the river flow through the courtyard of their home. The waterfall seemed to dance in the sun and the sunlight reflected off the water.  
  
Suddenly Connor slipped off the windowsill onto the grass below his window and ran across the lawn. He was wearing only a linen shirt and woollen trousers, perhaps not the appropriate clothes for a prince, but he favoured such garments, remembering his time as a wanderer.  
  
As he hurried over the lawn, he unbuttoned his shirt. When he reached the river, he dropped his shirt on the grass and dived into the cool water. Still boiling with anger, he swam strongly underwater to the waterfall and surfaced on the other side. He looked through the curtain of tumbling water and saw the palace appear to move as the water moved. He turned to the rocks and scrambled up and out of the water.  
  
Quite high in the rock face was a small opening. Connor scaled the rock carefully but quickly to the opening and climbed through. On the other side was a largish cave geologically carved out of the hill of rock. The only entrances for the cave were the way Connor had come or climbing through a small hole in the roof of the cave, which led to the small wood outside Minas Tirith. The only sounds were of the water rushing through the woodland over one side of the top of the cave and then splashing into the lower river via the waterfall.  
  
Dripping water, Connor strode backwards and forwards angrily, longing for his parents to return. He hated his princely life and wished for his wandering life back again. His father had been a Ranger; Connor wanted to become one too. Hearing a gentle thud behind him, he turned and grinned. A tall, nimble, blond-haired Elf had dropped through the hole in the ceiling. The Elf and boy were friends, both having been part of the Fellowship of the Ring throughout the War of the Ring. "Connor, I wondered if you were here. I came to see if you would wish to visit the hobbits with me."  
  
"I should love to, Legolas. Darcy is as irksome as always, but my parents are not home yet. I promised I would remain here until their return."  
  
"When are they to be back?" The Elf asked, sitting down on the rock floor. The boy sat on a rocky ledge in the wall, his legs dangling.  
  
"Soon, today is a possibility."  
  
"Then I will remain here until they arrive. Would that be suitable?"  
  
A grin lit up Connor's face and he hastily said, "Yes!" The Elf smiled back at him.  
  
"What news of Gimli?" Connor asked. The Elf and boy exchanged news of mutual friends until they heard the blowing of trumpets. They jumped to their feet simultaneously and ran to the opening of the cave. Together, they climbed down the rocks and dived into the water. By the time they swam to the shore and Connor flung his shirt on, the Royal Company had already been greeted by Darcy and Theo. Connor and his Elf-friend ran across the lawn and welcomed the newcomers.  
  
* * *  
  
In the evening of the same day, Connor finally found time for a private talk with his father, as they sat together in a fire-lit hall. They had grown close during their days wandering Middle-Earth together and during the War of the Ring, but since Aragorn's marriage to Connor's mother and the subsequent birth of Darcy, their closeness had fallen and it was rare for them to speak together without others nearby. "Father?" Connor began. "I. I wish to become a Ranger."  
  
Connor saw his father's knuckles go white as his hands clutched the arms of his chair. Aragorn turned to face his elder son. "A Prince is not a Ranger, my son." His low voice said gently.  
  
"You were a Ranger once." Connor retorted.  
  
"The circumstances are different for you than they were for me." Aragorn said calmly.  
  
Connor stood up, the firelight glinting on his features. "Father, I wandered for almost four years with you or by myself. I loved that life."  
  
"It was a harsh life." Aragorn recalled his days as a Ranger.  
  
"But it was a good life, Father. You are a good King, but if you had not been a Ranger, you would be a different person."  
  
There was silence and then Aragorn glanced up at his son. "Why do you suddenly wish this, Connor?"  
  
Connor explained his love for the forests, the rivers, the wildness. He told his father of the boredom he felt in the palace and the freedom he longed for as a Ranger. He reminded his father that he knew much of the lore of nature and of the rough life he missed.  
  
Aragorn stared into the fire watching the flickering shapes and wondered at his son. "You are my son and a Prince, you cannot become a Ranger. It is too dangerous."  
  
"For me, but not for you, is that it?" Connor barked. His father stood up suddenly and they stood face-to-face. "I am not your little boy any more, Father. I am nineteen years old and I wish to become a Ranger. You were one and you are a fraud if you refuse me this."  
  
"Do not speak to your father so, my son." Queen Evenstar joined her husband and elder son in the hall.  
  
"He wishes to become a Ranger, but he must not." Aragorn told his wife, as Connor glared at his smirking brother who had followed their mother into the room.  
  
Arwen glanced at the tall boy and clutched his hand. "Indeed you must not, Connor. A Ranger's life is a dangerous life and you must stay here with us."  
  
"You and Father are never here." Connor said slowly, before marching out of the room.  
  
Darcy sat on the fireside stool and watched his parents talk softly. "He can never become a Ranger. It is too dangerous." Arwen rested her head on her husband's shoulder as he gazed into the fire. 


	4. Uproar in Minas Tirith

That night, the ex-ranger's son dressed in his rusty-brown trousers, moss- green tunic and his hooded cloak. He filled his quiver full of arrows, checked his bowstring and slung his bow and the quiver onto his back. His sword and knife were thrust into leather scabbards hung from his belt and a pack was crammed with food, flint and tinder, a coil of elven-rope and other necessaries.  
  
The boy swung himself out of his window and crouched by the wall until he was sure that none were awake bar himself. Akin to a shadow, he flitted across the moonlit grass to the stables and scrambled over the stone wall of the palace. He slunk through the sleeping city of Minas Tirith and slipped through the city gates past the slumbering guards and out into the world, setting off down the Great West Road.  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning, Minas Tirith was in uproar. The older son of the King and Queen had gone missing; Prince Connor of Gondor had run away! Palace servants told tales of palace life, embellishing the quarrels of the brothers and the argument between the King and his elder son. While wild rumours were spreading over the town and soldiers wondered what to do, the Queen was in tears, the younger Prince was smugly boasting to Theo and the King sat in his private chambers, staring silently out of the window at the rushing river and tumbling waterfall and praying his teaching would pay off and keep his son safe.  
  
* * *  
  
As his mother cried and his father contemplated, their son fought for his life. A black full-grown female wolf had come upon the boy and attacked him. His sword flashed in the sun and her teeth gleamed white, biting and tearing. The fight seemed to last a lifetime, but finally the wolf leapt at Connor and, missing her aim as he dodged, fell onto her side and, before she could scramble to her paws, the sword cut her throat. As her life's blood stained the ground red, she snapped feebly one last time and died. Breathing a sigh of relief and removing his sword from the wolf's throat, Connor wiped it on the grass and slipped it back into the scabbard. He looked sadly at the wolf's body, picked up his pack again and then re-began his lonely journey down the road.  
  
Soon there was another noise mingling with the birdsong. Wondering at the source of the sound, Connor entered Druadan Forest and suddenly stopped dead as he saw a whimpering black half-grown wolf sitting in a small clearing. Not wishing to have another fight, Connor watched the wolf in silence. The animal appeared hungry and attempted to catch a rabbit. The rabbit jumped back into its hole and the young wolf's efforts at digging it out failed.  
  
Remembering the dried meat in his pack, Connor backed away from the wolf, his Elvish blood and father's training enabling him to be unheard by the wolf, and searched his pack for some meat. He walked back into the clearing and the wolf whimpered again at the sight of the meat. Connor crouched down and held the meat out in front of him. It took a long time for the wolf to come to him, but Aragorn's guidance had taught Connor patience. The wolf tried to snatch a mouthful and back away, but the tough meat didn't allow that. Finally the wolf's empty stomach ruled over his instinctive wariness and he settled down beside Connor to chew on the meat. After the meat had gone down the animal's gullet, Connor stood up slowly and began to walk away towards the road. The wolf watched quietly and eventually rose to his paws to follow Connor.  
  
Glad of the wolf's tameness, the two travellers continued their journey on the Great West Road. 


	5. The Ranger's Shadow

Some days later, the walkers encountered another traveller. The man was a Ranger of Ithilien and didn't know Connor. Surprised at the wolf's tameness, the tall, dark-haired man called in the Common Speech to Connor to stop.  
  
"You must be a wizard of some sort to have a wolf come tamely to you." The stranger greeted the boy.  
  
Connor laughed. "No such thing, the only magic I have is what my father taught me of healing herbs. Nay, a starving wolf is tamed with meat, that is all. What news from the east?"  
  
They exchanged news, Connor being careful not to mention his own identity and when they took their leave of each other, the Ranger asked, "What is the wolf's name?"  
  
Connor told him that the wolf had no name. "Nay, a tame wolf must have a name. I shall call him Ranger's Shadow, since he remains so closely by you. Farewell, my friend."  
  
"Farewell." Connor called after him, before looking down at the wolf and patting him. "Ranger's Shadow it shall be then, though Shadow will be the shortened version."  
  
* * *  
  
Passing near Edoras, the home of the Lord of Rohan, Connor and Shadow were surrounded by horsemen armed with spears. Connor stood still and asked them of their will.  
  
"No man can pass through these lands without speaking to the Lord of Rohan." The men told him.  
  
Saying no more, the two companions were taken to Edoras. "The wolf must remain outside." The guards of the gate said. Watchful of the spears, Connor commanded Shadow to wait outside the gate. To comfort the wolf, Connor left his pack with the animal and then went inside the gates of Edoras.  
  
On the steps of Meduseld, the high house in Edoras, Connor was ordered to give up his weapons and leave them in the charge of the doorwardens. He laid down his quiver of arrows, his Elvish bow, his knife and Telrúnya, his sword. The doorwardens then lifted the heavy bars of the doors and slowly opened them inwards, the doors complaining on their large hinges.  
  
Connor had visited Meduseld once before, when it was under the charge of Théoden, but that had been in the company of the wizard Gandalf, the dwarf Gimli, the elf Legolas and his father. Now Edoras was under the charge of Éomer, sister-son of Théoden.  
  
However the building had not changed, the long, wide, shadowy hall with its richly carved pillars. The floor was stone of many shades with runes and strange devices entwined in the stone. Woven cloths hung on the walls and Éomer sat on the same gilded chair his mother's brother had sat on, on the dais with three steps. "Who are you, stranger and where goesth thou?"  
  
"I would speak with you in private, Lord of Rohan." Connor's clear voice rang out in the great hall. Éomer thought for a while, nodded and dismissed all servants. He stood up, as his servants left and came down the steps.  
  
"Your name and destination, stranger?"  
  
"Stranger? Does my father's friend not know me? Do you not remember the War of the Ring, Éomer?" Mirth could be heard in Connor's voice.  
  
Éomer looked with wonder upon the stranger. "I know you not, boy. Who is your father?"  
  
Tossing back the hood of his cloak, Connor smiled. "My father is the King of Gondor, Éomer. Now do you remember me?"  
  
In awe of the King's son, Éomer knelt. "Apologies for the rough welcome, Prince."  
  
Rising Éomer to his feet, Connor chuckled. "I fought by you in the War of the Ring, do not kneel to me."  
  
Rapidly Connor's mood changed and he spoke seriously, "My father has sent no messenger then?"  
  
"Nay, what of?"  
  
Then it was that Prince Connor of Gondor told the Lord of Rohan that he had run away from his home. The Lord was shocked and enquired for the reason. Connor was honest and said that he wished to become a Ranger, but his father prevented him from doing so. "I must ask you though, Éomer, to keep my coming a secret and to tell all who are curious that I am no one but Callum a Ranger."  
  
Remembering Callum as a small boy, Éomer smiled and nodded. "I will do so."  
  
"I thank you and." The younger man stopped talking and looked towards the great doors. "What is that noise?"  
  
Éomer strode to the doors and opened them, asking his doorwardens of the source of the sound. He turned back to his visitor. "It is naught but some wolves fighting outside the gates."  
  
"Wolves?" Connor was alarmed and hastening past the Lord of Rohan, he seized his sword from the doorwardens and ran down the road through Edoras. He shoved the gates open and strode through. Éomer followed the Prince and together with his guards at the gates watched the young Prince fight with the pack of wild wolves who had attacked Shadow. As Telrúnya was swung through the air, Éomer reflected on how much Connor resembled his father in looks and fighting technique, as well as some aspects of his personality.  
  
Shadow defended himself against the ferocious wolves and Connor heard the whistles of the arrows of Éomer's men, who had been ordered to shoot the feral wolves as they stood on the walls of Edoras.  
  
Soon the wild wolves were all dead or had run away and Shadow and Connor were panting with exhaustion. Éomer came out of the gates and asked if they needed help. "I shall be fine, I thank you though Éomer."  
  
"I apologise that my men did not let the wolf inside the gates. I had not realised that this would happen."  
  
Connor smiled, though tired and bleeding from wolf bites. "It is no one's fault. Shadow and myself will survive, due to your men's arrows. Farewell Lord of Rohan." Smiling and recollecting his promise to the King's son, Éomer wished Callum the Ranger farewell.  
  
As he gazed upon the disappearing sight of the young man and wolf, Éomer was joined by his captain. The captain spoke softly so as not to be overheard by the curious guards. "That was no ordinary Ranger, was he? He bore himself too well to be so."  
  
"That was the son of the King of Gondor, but none must hear so." Éomer replied. His captain nodded and stared after the boy, astonished at his weatherworn appearance of so high a figure of the land.  
  
* * *  
  
Searching for the long-leafed plant, athelas, Connor boiled water and tossed the plant's leaves into the small kettle. The fragrance of the plant was sweet, but pungent and the steam refreshed Connor and felt his mind calmed. He bathed Shadow's wounds first and then his own. The pain lessened and he recalled the times his father had used the same antidote on him and their companions during their years of wandering together. Beside him, the wolf lay quietly and soon both of them, as the pain diminished still more, slept under the night sky. 


	6. The Lady of the Wood

After the incident at Edoras, Éomer had told no one else of Connor's identity and so Connor and Shadow were left in peace to roam the lands of Middle-Earth. They proceeded to Lórien as Connor longed to see the Lady of the Wood once more. They travelled through Fangorn Forest on their way, Connor having met some of the Ents after the War of the Ring so he was unafraid of the dark forest that many Men would avoid.  
  
"Hrum, Hoom. Do I know you? You remind me of someone I cannot remember." A deep voice came from behind Connor, Shadow yelped and darted in front of Connor, almost tripping the boy up.  
  
Recognising the voice, Connor spun round. "Treebeard, do you not know me? I am Callum."  
  
"Hrum, Hoom." The deep voice muttered again as the sturdy, fourteen foot high Ent gazed down at the boy. The Ent's arms were smooth and brown and the bushy grey beard, thin and mossy at the ends, covered the lower part of the long face. The grave, but piercing eyes of the Ent were brown with a green light in them. "Hrum, Hoom. Man the mortal, master of horses. Callum, the son of Aragorn? You have grown, boy."  
  
Grinning and remembering the Ent's slow way of speech and action, Connor said, "Treebeard, it has been a long time since our last meeting. It is more than eight years since."  
  
"Eight years may be a long time to a Man, but not long to an Ent, but you always were hasty, Callum."  
  
"I and my wolf are travelling to Lórien. Do we have your permission to travel through your forest?"  
  
"A friend of the wizard Gandalf need not ask to travel through my forest, young man. Lórien, Hrum, Hoom. Why do you wish to go to Lórien?"  
  
As Connor answered, the Ent picked up the boy and the terrified wolf and began to tread with long deliberate strides through the trees. Connor talked for a long time, telling the Ent all of the news of the outside world since their last meeting, the Ent occasionally interrupting to ask a question about a past event. Sitting comfortably in the Ent's arm, Connor felt safe and he noticed that as the peculiar journey went on, Shadow relaxed too, secure in the grasp of the Ent.  
  
By the time Connor and Treebeard had exhausted all their news and sung the old Elvish songs about Ents, they had reached the other end of Fangorn Forest. They wished each other farewell and the Ent went to his home whilst the boy and wolf walked toward the distant woods of Lórien.  
  
* * *  
  
Reaching Lórien, they splashed through a stream, whose waters strengthened and invigorated the weary travellers. Hungry, they sat and ate food from the almost empty pack, which Éomer's people had re-filled with food at Edoras.  
  
Harking back to the days of the Fellowship, Connor was reminded of a song Legolas had sung of the maiden Nimrodel. To cheer himself, he sung the song softly as he and Shadow walked through the woods of Lórien. Wondering once more at the height of the trees, Connor abandoned his pack to the ground, instructed Shadow to stay and swung himself up into the trees, but even as he did so, a commanding voice spoke. "Daro!"  
  
In fear, Connor dropped to the ground and crouched by the frightened wolf. One Elf, clad in shadowy-grey, landed lightly beside them and three others emerged from the surrounding trees, arrows at the ready. Glad of his knowledge of the elven-tongue, Sindarin, Connor spoke quickly and explained his coming.  
  
Answering the boy in the same tongue, the first Elf asked how he knew Sindarin. "My mother is an Elf, but my father a mortal Man." Connor relapsed into the Common Speech, knowing few of the Lórien elves understood such a tongue.  
  
"You must be brought before the Lord and the Lady. You cannot cross the rivers again." Connor nodded thus he and Shadow were led to the Lord and the Lady of the Wood.  
  
The Lady Galadriel spoke no words but looked long upon his face. The Lord Celeborn, however, addressed him. "Welcome Connor son of Aragorn. It is nine years of the world outside since you came to this land."  
  
Connor smiled and they conversed for a while. Suddenly the Lady Galadriel spoke. "Your quest is known to me, young one." Once more, she gazed searchingly at him. Connor lifted his head and fixed his eyes on her, enduring her gaze for longer than many mortals would.  
  
"Go now!" Celeborn advised. "You are worn with sorrow and much toil. Now you shall rest, and we will not speak of your further road until the morrow."  
  
Connor bowed courteously and followed Haldir, an Elf friend of the Fellowship, to the same glade where the Fellowship had slept some nine years before. For a while, the Elf and boy spoke of tidings Connor had brought with him from the outside world.  
  
When the Elf had left him, Connor sat leaning against a tree, Shadow asleep by his side. He felt as though the Lady of the Wood had offered him a choice between darkness and light. His heart told him one thing, but his pride another. Sighing, he questioned his purpose and speculated what the morrow would bring.  
  
He fell asleep to the sound of melodious Elvish songs sung in Sindarin. 


	7. The Mirror of Galadriel

During the night, he woke refreshed and at peace. Beside him, Shadow was still asleep and Connor wondered what had awoken him. Hearing soft rustlings, he stood up slowly and saw the Lady Galadriel, tall, white and fair, walking through the trees.  
  
Feeling a compelling urge to follow, he obeyed his instincts. She finally came to an enclosed garden and went down a flight of steps. The hollow contained no trees and was lit by the bright stars. A silver stream ran murmuring from a fountain on the hill of Caras Galadhon. A wide, shallow, silver basin stood upon a low pedestal. Galadriel picked up a silver ewer and filled the basin with water from the stream.  
  
When the water was still, she spoke in her gentle, musical voice. "Here is the Mirror of Galadriel. I have brought you here so that you may look in it, for I know you wish very much to see your family once more."  
  
"Will I see them?" Connor felt strangely calm, but awed by the Elf-lady.  
  
Galadriel smiled slowly. "The Mirror shows many things, some of which I can command and to some I can show what they desire to see. What you will see, I cannot always tell. It shows things that were, and things that are, and others that yet may be. But which you see, even the wisest cannot always tell. Will you look?" Connor nodded. She continued. "Look and see what you may, but do not touch the water!"  
  
Connor stepped onto the foot of the pedestal and looked. The hard, dark water reflected only the stars above him. He glanced up again at the Lady. She smiled, knowing his mind. "Look again, little one."  
  
The stars in the water went out and the Mirror grew grey and then clear. "Mother!" Connor exclaimed quietly, for his mother could be seen in the water. Tears were pouring down her fair cheeks as she sat in his own private chamber, clutching a shirt that he had worn the day before running away.  
  
Biting his lip, Connor could not take his eyes off his mother. Then the Mirror changed. Aragorn stood near the weeping Arwen and spoke gently to her. Connor could hear his father's words as though his father were beside him. Speaking softly in the Common Speech, Aragorn told his Elf-wife of the quarrel he had had with Connor, before Connor's disappearance. "I blame myself, Evenstar. I quarrelled with our son and he ran for I would not let him do his will."  
  
Arwen held Aragorn's hand and kissed it. "It was not only you, Elfstone. I too forbid him to become a Ranger and for that, he left."  
  
"No, Mother." Connor whispered. "It is not your fault and neither is it, Father. Oh, Mother." He reached his hand towards his parents.  
  
"Do not touch the water." Galadriel spoke gently and as she spoke, the picture in the water changed once more.  
  
An Elf-girl in a wood clearing was crying. "Alatariel Lossëhelim, why are you crying?" Connor asked out loud.  
  
"She believes you are dead, little one, and she is crying for the loss of her love." Galadriel said quietly.  
  
Connor gazed mesmerized into the water and then up at Galadriel. As the picture in the water dissolved, he fell out of his trance. His eyes were wide with shock and his guilt spread across his face. He leapt off the pedestal and muttered. "I must away to my home. My parents believe they drove me away by forbidding me to become a Ranger and Alatariel is crying for she thinks I am dead. O, Lady, I must go home."  
  
"Indeed, you must if you wish so, little one, but tarry a while. The night is not yet over and Celeborn wishes to speak with you upon the morrow."  
  
Reluctantly, but obeying the Lady, Connor bowed, thanked her in Sindarin and left the dell for his sleeping place.  
  
* * *  
  
The next day, the Lord and Lady of the Wood wished Connor farewell and he thanked them for their hospitality. Haldir brought Connor food for the journey and together they filled his pack with very thin cakes made of a meal that was baked a light brown on the outside and the colour of cream on the inside. Connor smiled as he recognised the Elvish version of cram such as the Dale-men made for long journeys, lembas or waybread. The lembas were wrapped in leaves and would remain unbroken and sweet for many days.  
  
Celeborn told Connor the way home to Minas Tirith. "As you go down the water, you will do well to leave the Great River above Rauros and cross the Entwash before it finds the marshes. I know you are Ent-friend, so if you wish to be entangled in the Forest of Fangorn, that is your choice." Connor smiled, as he remembered the Elves' previous warning of the Forest. "Hence I need say no more, for you know the Great West Road will lead you to your home. Farewell little one. Haldir will go with you for a while."  
  
The Prince and Haldir bowed and went to prepare the boat. Shadow sat in the bows with Connor's pack, watching the trees go by and as Haldir and Connor paddled the grey boat through the water, they could hear the Lady of the Wood singing in the ancient tongue of the Elves beyond the Sea. Connor understood only a few of the words and, as the small swift boat passed the Lady's boat, he called, "Namárië mellon." (Farewell friend)  
  
She smiled after him and soon the fleet grey boat slipped from even her Elvish sight. 


	8. Travelling the river, Anduin

Anduin, the Great River, flowed swiftly and the small boat sped merrily along its way, the wolf curled in the bows and the rowers chattering in the elven-tongue. At nights, they landed the boat and rested by the river, Shadow keeping watch over the sleepers. Occasionally, wild animals were spotted but a fire usually kept the animals away. The days were spent on the boat, speeding swiftly towards Minas Tirith.  
  
It was a peaceful time and Connor felt more relaxed as the days went by, knowing that each day meant he was closer to home. Often when they were tired, they would let the boat drift with the water, to conserve their energy.  
  
However, the pleasant time had to end and soon Connor and Haldir were dragging the boat to land, the sound of the nearby waterfall roaring in their ears.  
  
Shadow leapt out of the boat joyfully and waited impatiently for the boy and Elf to leave their leave of one another. Connor swung his pack, quiver and bow onto his back and exchanged farewells with the tall, fair Elf.  
  
* * *  
  
Connor recalled the time he and his companions had searched by the Entwash for the captured hobbits, Merry and Pippin. As he walked, he told Shadow of the past. Shadow listened attentively, his ears pricked. They strode through the grass and past the hills of Sarn Gebir. It was a long, hard day of walking and their leg muscles ached as the sun set. Connor had no wish to sleep in the open, though his body was weary.  
  
He and Shadow lay in the darkness cast by the hills and slept in a disturbed fashion, despite their fatigue. Halfway through the moonlit night, a pack of wild boar approached the sleepers. Shadow snuffled at Connor until the boy woke. He fixed an arrow to his bowstring and waited to see if the hogs would come nearer. They stared at the wolf and boy and the largest took a step towards them. At once, Connor's arrow left its string and flew over the animal's head as a warning.  
  
Grunting their disapproval of such travellers, the pack backed away and left. "Good work, Shadow." Connor patted the wolf and replaced his bow by his side, curling up to sleep once more.  
  
* * *  
  
The next day, Connor woke at sunrise and ate lembas. Shadow fed on a wild rabbit and soon the travellers were on their way again.  
  
It was some days later when they reached the immense river. Bounding lightly from rock to rock, Connor moved over the river. Less certain of his jumping ability was Shadow who followed cautiously, but bravely.  
  
Once over the river, they walked beside it for a day and then camped by Mering Stream for the night. The day after, they waded through the stream and passing Firien Wood, they walked through Anórien along the Great West Road. 


	9. Home Once More

Eventually arriving back at Minas Tirith, months after setting out, Connor pulled his hood over his head, wrapped his cloak around him and strolled through the city. Many eyes watched the tall cloaked stranger followed by the tame wolf, as black as ebony.  
  
The new arrivals went straight to the palace, stared at by many and pursued by little children. At the gates of the palace, the stranger persuaded the guards to let him and the wolf in. Reluctantly they obeyed and the curious children gaped through the gates. Two guards escorted the stranger to the palace and announced his arrival to Theo, who took the news to the King and Queen.  
  
The courtyard of the palace was large and a short flight of stone steps led to the palace. The river surged past the grassy courtyard through the palace grounds. The new arrivals waited with the guards at the foot of the steps and soon the King, Queen, young Prince and Theo, the Steward were standing at the top of the steps. "What is your name, stranger?" The King asked sternly.  
  
Amusement was heard in the stranger's voice as he spoke. "Do my own parents know me not?" He flung back his cloak hood and revealed his face.  
  
"My son, my son has returned!" Queen Evenstar ran down the steps and embraced her elder son. The city's children at the gates ran squealing to tell the news that the Prince had returned and Darcy scowled down at his brother. Theo's sombre expression flickered into anger for a second, but the curtain of severity fell down again.  
  
Slowly and with dignity, King Elessar walked down the steps, put his hand on his son's shoulder and said, "The Lord Elrond named me Estel, meaning hope, and I never gave up hope for you, my son."  
  
"I am sorry, Father." Connor said simply.  
  
"Will you come to my room in a while, my son?"  
  
"Yes, Father." Connor took his leave of his parents and sauntered up the steps, past his resentful brother and to his private chambers, followed by the faithful Shadow. In his main chamber, he unloaded his pack and replaced his bow and quiver of arrows upon the wall. He unbuckled his belt and placed the belt and scabbards on the simply-carved wooden table. He pulled his sword from the scabbard and ran his fingers along it.  
  
"Telrúnya, mellon." He whispered in Elvish to his sword. Shadow watched him inquisitively and he smiled at the wolf. "Telrúnya helped us out there, Shadow, and has saved me many times."  
  
A creak behind him made Connor turn round quickly, his sword at the ready. His little brother shrieked in fear. Connor smiled to himself, as he saw the wolf sniff his brother and then go to lie in the corner of the room on the blankets Connor had unpacked.  
  
"What do you wish here, Darcy?" He asked of his younger brother.  
  
"You made Mother cry, why did you come back?" Darcy glared.  
  
Calmly, Connor replied, "To stop her crying; that is why." He swung his sword through the air and then stopped, remembering his father's words.  
  
He replaced Telrúnya on the table and sent his young brother from the room. He changed out of his dirty clothes and into a clean shirt and pair of trousers.  
  
Barefoot and bareheaded, he padded along to his father's rooms and knocked on the door. Hearing his father call him in, he obeyed.  
  
"What of that wolf?" Was his father's first question.  
  
"He is in my room, resting his paws." Connor grinned. His father's stern glance wiped away his merriment and he answered properly, telling his father of his first meeting with Shadow and all that had happened since.  
  
When his son had finished, Aragorn beckoned to him. The man was sitting on a wooden chair by a large window that offered a view of the whole courtyard and the busy servants rushing about. Connor sat beside his father and waited in silence until his father told him what he wanted to say.  
  
His father spoke carefully and gently, but firmly. He told his son that he knew of the love the elf-girl, Alatariel, had for Connor and he asked Connor of his own feelings. Fidgeting and his cheeks tinged with red, Connor admitted he loved the elf.  
  
Aragorn listened to his son's confession and was silent. After a pause, he said, "My son, you must not love an elf."  
  
Shocked into impertinence, Connor said, "Not even my mother?"  
  
As his father glared at him, he regretted his words and paid attention to Aragorn's subsequent words. "Elves and mortals do not mix, my son, you cannot love an elf." Irritated by his father's hypocritical remarks, Connor accused him of being a fraud and charlatan.  
  
Aragorn stood up in anger, but kept his voice steady as he said, "I know this, because I, myself, have experienced it. You cannot love an elf, Connor."  
  
The newly-returned son then quarrelled with his father and soon his father said, "You should not have left like that, Connor. How would I have felt if you had died out there and I would be left knowing my last words to you were spoken in anger?"  
  
Connor shouted, "If I died now, your last words would have been spoken in anger also." Then the Lord Elfstone was alone in the room as his son stormed out in fury. Aragorn saw his son run down through the courtyard to the river. His shirt was flung to the ground and he dived into the water.  
  
Swimming strongly against the current, Connor felt a small part of his anger leave him. He swam to a rock in the middle of the river and climbed onto it, glaring into the water as though he was irate with the dark green, but clear water and not his father. 


	10. The Advice of Friends

Aragorn's meditation on his elder son was interrupted by a second knock on the door. Upon calling "Come in," he was pleased to see two of his friends enter the room. Tall, blonde-haired Elf Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood and his best friend, the short, fiery, but loyal and bearded dwarf Gimli, son of Glóin, entered the room, having been staying at the palace for the past few days.  
  
Aragorn held up his hands and smiled at his friends. "I am sorry. I have quarrelled with Connor and did not tell him that you were here."  
  
"And now he is glowering at the water in place of his father." Legolas smiled as he gazed through the open window at his young friend.  
  
Aragorn sighed as the three friends stood by the window. "What am I to do with him? He runs away for months and when he returns, we quarrel. I did not wish for this to happen and I am sure he did not either."  
  
"May I ask why you quarrelled?" Gimli asked.  
  
The three friends sat down by the window and Aragorn told the others of Connor's love of the wild and for an elf.  
  
"History is repeating itself, I see." Gimli muttered, when Aragorn's tale had ended. Legolas smiled and the two best friends reminded the King of the time the Fellowship spent together and how Connor was happy as the young wanderer, Callum.  
  
"You cannot blame your son for longing to be a Ranger, my friend. It is in his blood." The dwarf said. The Elf agreed.  
  
"But what of the elf girl? Mortals cannot mix with elves, you both know that." Aragorn asked of his friends.  
  
Legolas laughed. "It is in his blood, my friend. You were once a Ranger and then in love with an Elf, you cannot blame your son for the same crimes."  
  
"You are amiss, my friends." Aragorn smiled. "I ask for help concerning my son and you say it is my fault. I thank you for telling me so, now how should I persuade my son to talk once more with me?"  
  
"He is your son, that is up to you." The dwarf chuckled as he stood up.  
  
The Elf stood also. "Go now and talk with him. We wish you luck."  
  
"Indeed we do, my friend." Gimli said, following his Elf-friend from the room. Groaning in exasperation, yet smiling at his friends' insistence, Aragorn left his chambers and went down to the river.  
  
* * *  
  
Connor heard the approaching footsteps and knew it was his father. Still angry, he did not look up, until he heard a splash. His head shot up in astonishment and he wondered at his father's behaviour. Looking around, he could not see his father, until suddenly he felt two strong arms from behind thrust him off the rock and into the water.  
  
When he had surfaced, he saw his father sitting on the rock where he had been. His father was dressed only in trousers, just as Connor was. Aragorn had swum underwater around the rock and then sneaked up behind and propelled his son into the water.  
  
Grinning, Connor clambered back onto the rock and said, "Good work, Father. I had not noticed you, only your footsteps on the grass."  
  
"My son, I apologise for preventing you from being a Ranger. If that is what you wish, you shall be one."  
  
"What of Mother?" Connor asked.  
  
"I shall explain to her and you shall take your wolf wherever you go to reassure her." Aragorn spoke with a serious tone and expression, but Connor saw the laughter in his eyes.  
  
"What of Alatariel, Father?"  
  
The laughter died in Aragorn's eyes and he looked anxiously at his son. "If you truly love her, I shall leave it to your judgement and pray that you and she choose right."  
  
"You cannot choose love, Father. You know that." Connor's words reminded Aragorn of his own stubbornness with the Lord Elrond, when the Elf begged him not to love Arwen. Seeing Gimli walk through the courtyard beside his Elf-friend caused Aragorn to recollect also the words of his friends, 'it is in his blood, you cannot blame your son.' The King smiled half- heartedly.  
  
"I have saddened you, Father. I returned to cheer Mother and instead I have saddened you." Connor sighed in mock-upset and his father grinned.  
  
"Indeed you have saddened me. I find my son has matured and fallen in love with the fairest Elf-girl that ever graced this world . beside your mother."  
  
"I must away and speak with Alatariel to apologise for my long absence." Connor stood up.  
  
"And I must to tell your mother that her elder son is in love." Aragorn teased, as together with his son, he swam to the riverside. Connor seized his shirt and laughed.  
  
"Mother will be shocked to find I am grown. She believes I am still her small child." Aragorn watched his now-cheerful son dash across the grass and into the woods, buttoning his shirt as he went. Shaking his head in mock-despair, Aragorn fastened up his own shirt and went to find his wife. 


	11. Mortals and Elves Can Mix

"Alatariel, Alatariel, Prince Connor has returned from the wilds!" Maglor, the younger brother of Alatariel, called to her, as she sat in their house in Minas Tirith.  
  
"Maglor, Prince Connor."  
  
"He did not die, he is here. He went into the palace; we saw him and there was a wolf with him also."  
  
Alatariel gasped and leapt up from her seat. Almost flying, she ran to the wood clearing near the palace. The Prince heard her footsteps and embraced her as she entered the glade. "I am sorry for leaving you, Alatariel." He murmured.  
  
"Indeed you should be, Connor." The Elf-girl smiled and then spoke softly in Elvish. "Renich i lú i erui govannem?" (Do you remember when we first met?)  
  
Connor replied in the same tongue. "Nauthannem i ned ôl reniannen." (I thought I had strayed into a dream)  
  
Holding him close to her, Alatariel whispered, "I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the Ages of this world alone."  
  
Connor felt her gentle hand press something into his. He held the object up to what it was. On a light silver chain hung a dark green, glistening stone. Connor knew the Elf had had it of her parents.  
  
"You cannot give me this." He spoke softly.  
  
Looking down at his hand, she used both of hers to fold his fingers tenderly over the stone and then looked up again at his face.  
  
"It is mine to give to whom I will." She gently placed his fist on his heart and murmured, "Like my heart."  
  
Leaning forwards, she pressed her soft lips against his and they both knew in their hearts that they could never again be willingly parted. 


End file.
